


How You Say My Name

by MachineQueen



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bullying, Canon Typical Violence, Ferdibert Week 2019, Fluff, M/M, One Shot Collection, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-17 21:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21650197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MachineQueen/pseuds/MachineQueen
Summary: Ferdinand & Hubert, from last names to pet names and everything in between.A series of oneshots set in the canon timeline.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 30
Kudos: 258
Collections: Ferdibert Ship Week 2019, Sun & Moon 《Ferdibert》





	1. Von Vestra

**Author's Note:**

> I have integrated some of the #Ferdibert Week 2019 prompts but in a somewhat random order
> 
> This collection began as a piece for enemies-to-lovers that got out of hand

Of all the useless tasks he must undertake at Garreg Mach, sparring with Ferdinand von Aegir was the most useless of all. Hubert hadn't yet learned the names of most of his new classmates but von Aegir had been unavoidable. He was relentless in his pursuit of Lady Edelgard, bothering her with all sorts of trivial matters. Hubert's efforts to intimidate him had thus far been ineffective. It seemed von Aegir was a single minded fool and impossible to dissuade. 

Hubert had tried his best. But Von Aegir deemed most of his threats puzzlingly impractical ("Someone would surely notice if you drowned me in my own soup bowl. I do not plan to drown quietly.") The most effective thing had been threatening the horses instead of his person. Shortly after that Hubert was banned from the Garreg Mach stables. Well, good. Horses never liked him anyway.

The class had been split into assigned pairs for duels. Much to his chagrin, he and Lady Edelgard had been forced to take other partners. She was assigned Dorothea, who seemed a frivolous sort but otherwise harmless. Hand to hand combat only, no magic allowed. Professor Byleth supervised, giving each pair a few minutes of individual instruction. It was odd to be working outside, in full view of any nosy knights or members of the clergy. Hubert disliked the feel of so many other eyes upon him and though the sun was dim, he'd prefer to be out of its glare. 

For the fourth time in as many minutes, Hubert was unceremoniously and effortlessly knocked to the floor. Von Aegir had some muscle in those gangly limbs - he was far stronger than he looked. He was quick too, easily deflecting or dodging any paltry attempt Hubert made to hit him. It was difficult to judge what irritated Hubert more - the fact that von Aegir was bloody good at this or the fact that he knew it.

"Try and at least give me a challenge, von Vestra."

The look von Aegir gave him was somewhere between smug contempt and pity. Despite their exertions, he hadn't even a hair out of place. It had been a while since Hubert had witnessed a face so in need of a good punching. A shame indeed that he had not been able to deliver it thus far. 

Time to remedy that. Hubert sprang to his feet and threw out his fist, going for the element of surprise. The blow landed but von Aegir didn’t even flinch. Were the bones in his shoulder made of iron...?

"I cannot believe you have made it this far without learning to throw a decent punch."

"I am a mage," Hubert said, very very slowly so he could be sure von Aegir heard him correctly. "I hardly lower myself to such common methods."

"What if you cannot use magic?" 

Hubert scoffed. "That would never happen. What do you take me for?"

"An unworthy opponent, in this at least. Beating you so soundlessly is making me feel a common bully. If I were paired with Edelgard instead, this would be of more benefit."

The mention of Lady Edelgard reduced the last of Hubert's patience to ashes. He charged straight for von Aegir, determined to kick his legs out from under him or otherwise use his height advantage as well as he could. Maybe get him in a choke hold. 

Unfortunately for him, the insufferable noble neatly sidestepped him and he was left flailing ineffectively at the air. Von Aegir laughed from somewhere behind him. 

"Interesting technique, Hubert," said the professor. 

It was their turn for instruction. Von Aegir immediately went in for the kill and with a graceful one-two kick dumped Hubert to the floor yet again. He gave the professor his brightest smile. 

"Professor, might you consider reassigning us? Von Vestra is much too easy an opponent."

Hubert picked himself back up and added another idea to the von Aegir torture list. This one involved an imaginative use of throttling. 

"Ferdinand, the exercise is not about winning," the professor said. “Yes, you are better. So teach him."

"Von Vestra does not wish to learn!"

This at least was a fair argument. Hubert did not wish to learn. Hubert wished to enact one of the many painstaking tortures he'd devised specifically for Ferdinand von Aegir. The professor sighed and beckoned Ferdinand to face them.

“Hubert, watch my feet and shoulders.”

Slowly, they moved their hands into position. Hubert saw that there was more to a punch than thrusting out an arm. You had to push off on one foot, swing from the shoulder to get a bit of force behind it. Ferdinand bore it well, though the professor struck with only an ounce of their full strength.

“Do you see? Now try against Ferdinand. Ferdinand, you guard. You can work on that.”

Hubert huffed but tried to move the way the professor showed him. Ferdinand neatly caught the first blow but wasn’t ready for Hubert to strike with his other hand. It was enough to knock him off balance and Hubert allowed himself to feel a little bit pleased. The professor nodded. Hubert went for a kick to finish the job but it lacked force. Von Aegir, however, tumbled to the floor in a dramatic pile of limbs. 

"Argh! I have been struck down! The pain is like nothing I have ever experienced. I cannot believe I have fallen pray to such sloppy technique-" 

The professor frowned. Hubert glared. All gazes turned to them because Ferdinand was nothing if not loud. Lady Edelgard was silent but Hubert could surmise from her expression that she was trying incredibly hard not to laugh. That was somehow worse than a reprimand. This whole session had already hurt his pride. His lady laughing at him on top of that made his face blaze and his heart squeeze. 

“-will I ever see the sun again? Surely all is lost now I have been downed by such a fearsome foe and-”

"Ferdie, if you're angling for a part in our drama production next year, the answer is still no," Dorothea cut in. 

Von Aegir sat up, flashing his teeth in a grin. "Did you really not appreciate my performance?" 

"Why don't you try method acting?" Hubert snarled. 

The Mire he threw at von Aegir's surprised face landed him in detention for a week. 

It was worth every second. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Young Ferdinand is a poor loser and deals by making a performance out of it. I hope he doesn't read as being intentionally cruel to Hubert here, even if that's Hubert's interpretation. YMMV on whether he deserved a Mire to the face for it.


	2. Von Aegir

Ferdinand peered critically at his face in the mirror. Manuela had done a good job at healing the Mire burn but there was still a faint pink line on the side of his jaw. Von Vestra had given him a stiff apology when ordered to, but it was just unsporting to go for a fellow’s face. Though perhaps Ferdinand deserved it. He had meant his performance to be in good fun but underestimated both Hubert’s sense of humour and his ability to strike back. 

Did Hubert von Vestra ever laugh? Smile? Maybe he deemed humour a waste of time. Or else he just really, really hated Ferdinand. Ferdinand was used to any friendship he wanted being his for the taking. But von Vestra was a challenge. And Ferdinand von Aegir did not back down from a challenge. He would have to think on this more during his morning ride, come up with a new strategy. 

There was a shortcut to the stables through the gardens. As he was taking it, he heard the sound of quarrelling. Not uncommon among academy students but one of the voices…

Unmistakably von Vestra. 

Ferdinand eyed the path he’d been meaning to take but curiosity got the better of him. He headed towards the noise instead. 

Whatever he’d been expecting to find, it wasn’t von Vestra puffed up like an angry cat, flanked by a knight of Seiros on either side. Blood streaked from Hubert’s nose, dotting both his uniform and the grass by his feet. One of the knights had him by the back of his collar. 

“And just what is going on here?” asked Ferdinand because whatever he’d been expecting, it certainly wasn’t this.

“Von Vestra had a few words to say about the Goddess,” said the taller knight. Ferdinand recognised him as Sir Something-or-Other. Noble, but from a minor house. “We are just...correcting...a few of his vile misconceptions.”

“With your fists?”

“This has nothing to do with you, von Aegir. Run off and play with your friends.”

“Let him go,” ordered Ferdinand. He was not about to let a classmate get kicked about, even if it was one he didn’t care for. When the knight didn’t comply, he moved into a combat stance. Picking a fight with a knight was beyond stupid but his gut told him it was the noble thing to do. It wasn’t like anyone else would bother to bail Hubert out. 

“I apologise for my comment,” spat von Vestra, just as Ferdinand was about to make his move. Surprising, but maybe this would get them off the hook? 

Sir Something-or-Other released him, none too elegantly. 

“You should get on your knees and pray the Goddess is merciful,” said the other knight. “There’s a special place in hell for blasphemers.”

"Is pointing out how much time my lady wastes on compulsory religious services blasphemous?" 

Really, Ferdinand had to congratulate Hubert's nerve. It certainly wasn’t a topic he’d care to broach with the knights. That was Edelgard and Hubert for you, he supposed. Unconventional, unbelievable and unyielding. 

“Who do you think you are, questioning us? And why should we bother answering to a crestless cretin like you?” demanded Sir Something-or-Other.

Ferdinand flexed his hands. There were some ‘nobles’ who looked down on those without crests. Such people didn’t deserve the blessings they were born with and were an excellent reason to doubt the existence of the Goddess. But. He did not wish to explain to his father that he had been expelled from Garreg Mach for trying to defend Edelgard’s heretic retainer. 

“I am sure you will be on your way then,” seethed Ferdinand, trying to maintain his composure.

“I expected better of you, von Aegir. We’ll be sure your daddy finds out about your new boyfriend!”

That did it. Enraged, Ferdinand made to give chase. Why should his father be brought into this? And Hubert was hardly boyfriend material, they could barely be in the same room without fighting each other. They weren’t even friends! Damn what was sensible, he was sure with all his training a couple of Knights of Seiros would be easy pickings!

Von Vestra caught him by the sleeve and he stumbled like the fool he was.

“They are not worth your efforts.”

“You want to let them get away?”

“Are you familiar with the phrase ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold’? If you beat them to a pulp, you’ll have to explain to the faculty. Whereas I can act without needing to explain a thing.”

“If I had not been here, they would have kicked you down as soon as you tried to cast.”

“Do you expect me to kneel at your feet and thank you?” demanded von Vestra. “I am perfectly capable of defending myself without you blundering in.”

“Against two fully trained knights, with your pathetic hand-to-hand skills?”

“Hmph. I could have stabbed them. I always carry knives.”

“Edelgard said no killing students or monastery staff.”

“Lucky you. Had she not ordered otherwise, you would be first on my list!”

“You already had your chance. Do not expect another!” 

Ferdinand hadn't been this riled up for a while. No matter how hard he tried, von Vestra did not soften towards him. It was his desire to get along with all the Black Eagles, to try and foster unity and cooperation within their house. Most were willing to converse with him, even if it was just to exchange pleasantries. But von Vestra gave him nothing. Even as he used a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his nose, he was still glaring fiercely at Ferdinand. 

“I am surprised you did not join them! Are they not the kind of company you usually keep?”

“A true noble does not pick on others,” Ferdinand huffed. “I am not interested in associating with their sort. I wish to raise people up, not knock them down.”

“Saving wretches like me is part of your manifesto then?”

“Yes. I am willing to bail out ungrateful wretches like you, should the need arise. Now, are you going to let me escort you to the infirmary?”

“I suppose I cannot stop you.”

The short walk was largely silent. Was silence better or worse than being insulted? Either way, Ferdinand couldn’t stand it. Nothing put him more on edge. Von Vestra always managed to worm his way inside Ferdinand’s head and leave him restless and tetchy. 

“Does that kind of thing often happen to you?” he asked. 

“No. Most understand that provoking an assassin has unfortunate consequences.”

Ferdinand touched the mark on his jaw. ‘Unfortunate consequences’ was one way of putting it. 

“When we were sparring, I did not mean to cause any offence. I only meant to lighten the atmosphere. Maybe even make you smile.”

“Is that so? And people say I have an odd sense of humour...”

When they reached the infirmary it was a blessed relief. “There! I am satisfied I have completed my duty as both a noble and a classmate.”

“We will not speak of this again,” said von Vestra, tone venomous.

“As you wish.” Ferdinand turned to go. He was sure his horse would be missing him. And he needed to get away from von Vestra’s piercing gaze, to somewhere he’d be able to think straight again.

“Von Aegir?” Ferdinand paused, readying himself for another insult. “Thank you.”

A ‘thank you’ from Hubert von Vestra? Ferdinand would be sure to make a note of it, as he doubted he would receive another anytime soon. Even so, it was enough to dissolve some of the tension he felt and put a smile back on his face. 

Maybe he could salvage something from this yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre timeskip Hubert struck me as someone others might attempt to bully and Ferdinand seems like the type who'd fight someone stronger than him if he had to.


	3. Hubert

Ferdinand’s eyes flicked up to meet Hubert's gaze, distrust clearly apparent. They were seated in the empty Black Eagle classroom. Lectures had ended hours ago. Hubert watched Ferdinand's face in the candlelight. As ever, he was an open book, expressions always fascinating and ever changeable. 

"You made me tea."

“Even sweeter than you usually take it, for the shock. I’m surprised you have any teeth left.”

“Do you intend to poison me?”

“Ferdinand. If we wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Drink."

Ferdinand did not move, just continued to stare at Hubert. For once, Hubert missed his usual incessant prattling. Every now and again, Ferdinand would let slip something that showed there was intellect under all that bluster. It was not often Hubert was mistaken, so he was surprised when Ferdinand demonstrated that his head was full of more than rocks, fluff and fairy dust. They had been getting on better lately, enough so that Ferdinand smiled when they bumped into each other. 

Perhaps he wouldn't anymore. 

Hubert picked up Ferdinand's teacup and sipped from it. Unhygienic but necessary. 

"See? Not poisoned."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" 

Hubert knew from the moment they met that this was where they'd end up. Goodbye, von Aegir. No more wealth, no more power, no more lands. A historical estate reduced to nothing with a single order from the new emperor. Ferdinand's face was paler than he'd ever seen it and it didn't suit him one bit.

"This was planned," Ferdinand continued, through clenched teeth. He still did not touch the tea. 

"Yes."

"But you said nothing. Did you not think of me? Did I come up even once while you and Edelgard were making your schemes?" 

"The world doesn't revolve around you."

"You have taken my heritage and claim it has naught to do with me?" 

“It was...necessary. An example.”

"And my father?" 

"Under house arrest. Do you wish to see him?"

"...No. I know he is not a good man but-"

"Then you know why this had to be done."

"You could have allowed me a chance to put things right. Win back the honour of House Aegir."

"The house is gone. Are you not paying attention?"

Ferdinand looked down at the desk between them, defeated. The two of them were not equals - that illusion had been well and truly shattered. Hubert and Edelgard would always be the ones who took his name. 

"So I have… nothing..."

Hubert flinched. It shouldn't hurt to hear Ferdinand so desolate. What was he after all? Almost a friend? In all the planning, all the waiting for this day, he'd never expected to esteem Ferdinand von Aegir as anything more than a fly to be swatted. But now, things were different. 

"There is a place for you with Lady Edelgard. We need good generals."

"How can I be a general when I have no name?"

The sound of his voice bled dry of enthusiasm elicited something Hubert would later recognise as sympathy. Hubert reached out one hand and clutched Ferdinand's where it trembled against the table. Foolish. If he were Ferdinand, he wouldn't hesitate to break fingers. But Ferdinand just looked at their hands curled together, confused. Disoriented. 

"Think of it like this. We don't want Ferdinand von Aegir. But we do want Ferdinand of the Black Eagles."

Hubert let his fingers tighten. He was giving too much away but he couldn’t help himself.

"I do not understand."

"Then listen carefully, as I will not repeat this again: Join us."

Ferdinand shook his head. "I do not know how I can trust you."

Hubert slowly withdrew his hand with a sigh. It was difficult to argue with that. How to convince him? He thought about Ferdinand, about all he'd learned by sharing missions and classes and chores with him. 

"Are you nothing but a lost little boy? Did you want the role of prime minister just so you could protect your own wealth and power and your pathetic excuse of a father? Is all this nobility talk really about winning daddy's approval?" 

...As gambits went, risky. But Ferdinand did so love a challenge.

For a moment, nothing. Then Ferdinand lunged across the table to seize him by the collar. It was easy to forget how much raw strength he hid. Hubert recalled being dumped to the floor during sparring time and time again. A strength Ferdinand took for granted but one he and Lady Edelgard could make good use of.

"How dare you! You know nothing of what I want! Who do you think cares more about the people? You and Edelgard, hiding and pretending and whispering in corners or someone willing to talk with them? Listen to them?" 

Ferdinand lifted a hand from Hubert's collar and curled it into a fist. Hubert had never been more glad to be punched in his life and did not shy from it. It rattled his teeth and left his head ringing but he only grinned. 

"There you are," murmured Hubert. "That's more like it. 

Ferdinand let go, stunned and Hubert got to watch the realisation he'd been played spread across his face. 

"So that is why you want me.”

Hubert tasted hope. 

"I do. I mean, ah, we do. Because name or not, you are the best person for the job."

"You and Edelgard are going to war against the church and the crested nobility and you want me to help you."

"If you are up to the task."

"You are mad," he said, voice completely flat. 

Though Hubert ached at the thought of leaving Ferdinand behind, he wasn't sure what else he could do. He rose to leave, wondering how Lady Edelgard and the professor would take the news. "I can see I've been wasting-" 

Ferdinand stood up with him, effectively blocked his retreat. They were close now, close enough that Hubert could have reached up to tuck a strand of hair back behind an ear. 

"General von Aegir does not back down from a challenge."

Then Ferdinand lifted the teacup from the table to his lips and drank, eyes never leaving Hubert's. 

The gauntlet had been thrown. Let the war begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This originally started from the Day 1 Teatime prompt before I decided to incorporate it here. 
> 
> If you want to interpret this chapter as the first time Hubert realises he enjoys getting punched in the face by Ferdinand von Aegir...you're not wrong. 
> 
> Three chapters of arguing followed by three chapters of tooth rotting fluff is an OK fic structure, right?


	4. Ferdinand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are now post time skip -
> 
> The chapters from now on will be a bit less sparsely written because I had more time to work on them. 
> 
> This is where the fluff begins.

Garreg Mach was no fun in a downpour. The old roof tops hadn’t been maintained properly and there were leaks and drafts in every room. It was impossible to stay warm, even with a cup of tea in hand. Ferdinand had been roaming around for what felt like an hour for a dry place to read the ever-so-thrilling post battle reports he was carrying in his satchel. The situation was getting so dire that he was tempted to sit in the stables with the horses. The mounts definitely had better quarters than the monastery’s human occupants but there was not really anyone to complain to. They just had to grin and bear it. 

Most of the other Eagles had gathered in the dining area where they were able to make the biggest fire. Ferdinand had stayed a while but it was too noisy a space to work in. Though he’d been happy to chat, he really needed somewhere he could concentrate.

Rain water dripped into Ferdinand’s eyes. Maybe it was time to call it quits and subject himself to shivering in his bedroom under all the blankets he could find. 

“Looking for someone, Ferdinand?”

Hubert stepped out from behind an inconveniently placed pillar. This time, Ferdinand managed not to jump. No amount of telling Hubert that sneaking up on people was rude seemed to deter him from popping out of the scenery whenever he wanted a chat. It was, Ferdiand decided, something that would never change. At least it kept him on his toes. 

Over the last five years, something had settled between them. All out conflict had turned into respectful debate. Not always peaceful, but at least productive. 

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I was actually looking for somewhere to sit that would not blow my papers away or drip water on my head. As you can see, I have failed miserably.”

Rain looked good on Hubert; it darkened his clothes to an even deeper black and gave his hair a sparkling glisten. Ferdinand had tried to avoid his reflection but he knew he looked like a wilted flower. His hair was heavy on his back and the ruffles on his shirt cuffs and collar were sagging. Appearance didn’t matter in war, but Hubert’s appraising looks always made him remember his anyway. Ferdinand would come out of battle covered in mud, grime and his own blood. In complete contrast, Hubert would often look as though he'd merely popped out to the market. 

Hubert gave him a quick once over and an eye roll. 

“Come with me, then. We cannot afford the luxury of time off sick at the moment.”

Hubert put his hand to Ferdinand's back and set off at a steady clip, the sound of his footsteps drowned out by the rain beating on the flagstones. Ferdinand fell into step with him, heavy boots much noisier against the wet ground. 

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere I use to take refuge from bad weather.”

Hubert led them to another of the dormitory buildings. This one had housed older students, Ferdinand thought. As far as he knew, no one had stepped foot in it since their return to the monastery.

They walked down corridors so dark that Ferdinand had no idea how Hubert could see where they were going. It was a good job they were now on amiable terms, otherwise Ferdinand might have suspected that he was about to become an assassination victim.

The room they finally stopped at contained a desk, a sofa and a lit fireplace. Hubert began to light the candles as well, with a quick whisper and a pointed finger. It was enchanting to watch, the movements containing all of the quiet beauty Ferdinand had come to appreciate in Hubert. 

The sofa looked inviting but might possibly be booby trapped (one never knew with Hubert) so he hovered until Hubert made an impatient 'please sit' gesture. 

“I might have known you would have a secret hideout!”

“... Next time I come, no doubt Dorothea and Caspar will be here, making all their noise and fuss.”

“Are you implying that I cannot keep a secret? You wound me!”

Hubert offered him a smile as sharp as his cheek bones. “How can you keep secrets when your every thought is written all over your face? You’re so easy to read it’s laughable.”

“Is that so? Then what am I thinking right now?”

“You are thinking ‘I am annoyed with Hubert because I no longer have an excuse not to read these dull reports’.”

“You could not be more wrong! More like ‘I am annoyed with Hubert because he does not show one iota of trust in me.’”

“If that were the case, would you be here?”

“...I suppose not.”

Ferdinand couldn’t help shivering as water dripped down his neck. At least the healthy fire meant he should dry out soon. Hubert picked up some of his own papers and sat down beside him. A quick glance showed some kind of code Ferdinand couldn’t hope to understand so he pulled out his own work. Hubert’s distracting presence beside him didn’t help, but when his mind settled he was finally able to start reading.

After thirty pages of battle minutiae - battalions, co-ordinates, supplies, orders, the adrenaline and unpredictability of war reproduced as the most overly detailed dull narrative known to man - Ferdinand’s attention began to wander. Though not as cold, damp and miserable as before, he was still far from an optimum temperature. 

Hubert's presence beside him radiated warmth. Ferdinand shamelessly shuffled closer. Hubert glanced up at the movement.

“Something you need?”

Though the two of them had gotten closer, Ferdinand always trod carefully. If he tried to rush things with Hubert, he was pretty sure the whole thing - whatever it was - would blow up in his face. Usually he wouldn’t hesitate to go for what he wanted, but he cared about this enough to try and reign himself in. As much as he could manage anyway. Still, a little snuggling surely wasn't too much of a step up from a hand on his back or a brush of their shoulders? 

It was only a couple of tiny movements to nudge close, to put his head on Hubert’s shoulder and properly indulge in the warmth of him. If Hubert didn’t want him there, he’d surely move away. 

“You are like an affectionate wet dog,” Hubert groused. But he carefully set his reading material down so he could put his arm around Ferdinand, cheek pressed to the top of his head. Ferdinand didn’t imagine the feel of damp hair was overly pleasant but Hubert didn’t object. 

“Are dogs fond of you also?”

“... Start any rumours and I shall be forced to recount some of the more ridiculous ways in which you tried to one up Lady Edelgard when we were students. Does ‘I can sharpen pencils faster’ ring any bells?”

Ferdinand chuckled to hide his blush. He certainly did remember trying to draw Lady Edelgard into such a contest. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments. 

“My lips are sealed. Though I doubt I am the only one who has worked out you are not the frightening ghoul you pretend to be.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Hubert began to pet his hair, fingers finding an easy rhythm. Ferdinand let his eyes flutter closed and relaxed, content to drink up the attention. Long hair was good for something after all. 

"...Ferdinand. I was wondering-" Hubert paused. "Am I supposed to kiss you at some point or-" 

Ferdinand lifted his head so he could look Hubert directly in the eyes. 

"You may kiss me whenever you like."

"Good. So I have not got the wrong idea about-" he waved a hand "this."

"You have not. Any more questions?"

Hubert leaned down, pausing to give Ferdinand time to move away. Then kissed him like he was worried Ferdinand would break. A ridiculous notion, considering all that he'd survived so far. Swords and spells and bows and lances had all marked him - he was good at taking a beating if nothing else. 

But for now, Ferdinand let his world become nothing but sighing kisses, the taste of coffee and the gentle hands of Edelgard's terrifying retainer. His mind began to drift and his mouth softened until Hubert pulled away. 

“Worn out from all your running around?”

"Mmm. I am at last comfortable. Thank you.”

It wouldn’t hurt to rest his eyes, just for a moment. It wasn’t very often that they got time together like this. Trying to find a common gap in their schedules was becoming more and more challenging. 

On his part, Hubert didn’t seem in any hurry to rush off on orders from Lady Edelgard. Ferdinand hoped that he might be enjoying their time together too but then again it was impossible to guess what went on in the mind of Hubert von Vestra. Perhaps even now, with Ferdinand curled up against him, he was thinking of war and strategy and politics.

Ferdinand didn't know the answer and he didn't care. At that precise moment all he wanted was to fall asleep to Hubert's heartbeat, his gentle touch. The hands that were so exquisite at delivering violence were capable of tenderness too. 

Perhaps it was mad to feel safe with a man who moved in the shadows, who still kept so many secrets. But Ferdinand couldn't recall a time he’d felt more at home.


	5. Hubie

Everyone had their own pre-battle routines. Some liked company and some didn't. Hubert usually spent his time with Lady Edelgard, making sure her tea never ran dry. However, once Lady Edelgard retired to bed he was left at a loose end. 

Pacing the hallways, he stopped in front of Ferdinand's door. It would be impolite to disturb him this late. But… a comfort perhaps to see his face. And maybe Ferdinand would appreciate someone looking in on him? 

Hubert rapped on the door. 

Ferdinand answered almost straight away. He was half undressed, as if he'd tired halfway through shedding his clothes. Hubert took a breath and tried not to stare too much at places that were usually covered. Coming undone at the sight of Ferdinand's collarbone would not only be unseemly but extremely embarrassing. 

"I know it is late but I had a mind to go through our plans one final time."

Excuses, excuses, such pathetic excuses. Ferdinand was either surprised to see him or surprised at his transparency. 

"Of course, come in. I am happy to set your mind at rest."

Ferdinand offered him a chair from the desk. The dim light from the lamp hid most of the mess and clutter Hubert knew lurked elsewhere. Ferdinand perched on the edge of his bed, hands folded neatly.

"What did you wish to discuss?" he asked, as if they were in an official meeting and not his bedroom. 

"This plan relies on you and your battalion being able to hold the forest area. Are you confident? It's not too late to change the plan."

"Yes, I have every confidence in our strategy. You need not fret." 

“I will endeavour not to.”

There was a brief silence in which Ferdinand’s face cycled through several different expressions and then settled on one Hubert didn’t recognise. 

“Speak your mind, Ferdinand. It worries me when you are quiet.”

Ferdinand took a breath. “Before every battle ...I wonder which former friend we will kill next.”

Hubert had been expecting to discuss a possible flaw in the plans. A gap in supplies or concern about a comrade. Something they could argue about. This was...more personal. Hubert fidgeted. Nothing he said would take this particular worry away. 

“... You won’t get anywhere dwelling on it.”

“I cannot help it. And I hate this waiting! I just want to go, get it all over with.”

“It is late. You need to sleep.” Hubert rose, uncertain of what to do. This conversation was not helping either of them the way he hoped. 

“I cannot.”

“You must.”

“Tomorrow could be the end.”

Those eyes were not meant to look so sad. Hubert clumsily reached out, maybe to pat his shoulder. Ferdinand took his fumbling hand instead, linking their fingers. This was more familiar at least. Less familiar was Ferdinand looking up at him like he knew all the answers. Maybe he knew all the technical minutiae of war. But how to comfort a loved one? He was on shaky ground at best. 

“This is not like you. We will emerge victorious, as always.”

“And what will it cost? Your life? Mine? Dorothea's?”

“I would give my life gladly. If you do not feel the same, you should leave."

But even as he said it, Hubert's grip tightened. To lose Ferdinand now would be unthinkable. A betrayal that would cut him down like none ever had. 

“I am prepared to stake my life. But still. I am frightened. Even if I survive, you may not..."

“We will not know until tomorrow. But I will stay with you tonight. If you wish it,” Hubert added hastily. 

"I-I would like that." Ferdinand tugged on Hubert’s hand. "Come, then," he murmured. "At least take your jacket off. And your boots."

They lay down together, both stiff with nerves. Ferdinand's breath brushed his cheek. 

"May I…?" 

Hubert's heart hammered as Ferdinand shifted closer and neatly tucked himself into Hubert's side, head nuzzled into his shoulder. Having Ferdinand curled up and quiet was a privilege Hubert had never earned. Yet it still felt right. Inevitable. The way things were always meant to be. Ferdinand's lips found his neck and Hubert managed to unfreeze enough to wind an arm around him. 

Hubert thought the words I love you. Would it be worse to say them or worse not to? Ferdinand was the type who liked to have things spelled out. But Hubert, who had a hundred different phrases to threaten someone’s life and had never shied away from an argument in his life, could not make the words form. As soon as he tried, they crumbled to dust on his tongue. 

“Will you really stay? Usually you have things to take care of...”

“Tonight the only thing I want to take care of is you.”

Hubert traced a path over Ferdinand’s jaw and stopped when he came to a raised bump. There was a narrow scar there,   
likely caused by a mage judging by the texture. It was one of many scars - Ferdinand was accident prone - but he’d never found this one before. He traced the faint line of it again and Ferdinand shivered. 

“That one is yours.”

"Mine?" 

"Do you not remember? We were sparring. You attacked me in front of the whole class." 

"Ah, yes. It was not unprovoked, as I recall it."

It was cruel to feel pleased that he'd permanently marked Ferdinand - like he was meant to be mine all along - but there it was all the same. Hubert leaned down and pressed his lips to the scar. Ferdinand let out a contented sigh. 

"My Hubie…"

It was hardly in Hubert's nature to soothe, but then it was not in Ferdinand's to need soothing. Hubert threaded a hand up into long hair and carefully brushed his fingers through the soft tangle of it. No doubt it would be suffocating him come morning but it wouldn't be Ferdinand without it. It was nice to touch something without ruining it, nicer still to listen to Ferdinand's breathing calm in time to the movement of his hand. 

Though rest was not easy, Ferdinand's presence at least brought a comfort he'd never known before. Now all they had to do was win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse the fluff and self-indulgence of this chapter
> 
> I COULD blame it on this damn flu which is making me feverish and exhausted but unfortunately most of it was written a while ago oops


	6. Ferdie

There was nothing like the high of a well earned victory. Later, when the gratitude and adrenaline had worn off, Ferdinand would mourn the loss of life. But if he did that now he'd fall apart. So instead he made a rousing speech for his soldiers, commending their bravery and service to the Empire. He thanked them all by name. Then he thanked the horses by name. When he started trying to recall what one of the lieutenants called his sword so he could thank that by name, he was gently herded out of the way so they could begin marching back to where Edelgard had designated their meeting point. 

There was a moment… The longest of his life… where he could see Edelgard and not Hubert. Their conversation from the previous night came rushing back - was this victory the one Hubert had died for? Dread filled his lungs from bottom to top. 

But no, because there he was, melting from the shadows on Edelgard's left. 

Post battle euphoria dulled any restraint Ferdinand might have had. His horse was not moving fast enough for his liking so he dismounted and charged forward, still able to run despite battle weary limbs. She was well trained enough to trot after him. 

Hubert regarded him with a faint crease in his brow, probably expecting him to halt when he was close. Once again, Hubert vastly underestimated the affections of Ferdinand von Aegir. Ferdinand hurtled straight at him, arms outstretched, and then hoisted the mage up for a victory spin. He was heavier than he looked but it was no strain at all for Ferdinand to lift him by the waist. In fact, why had he never done this before?

"Ferdinand, no! Put me down this instant!"

Hubert made an ineffectual swipe at his armoured back and when that failed fisted a hand in Ferdinand's hair, either as punishment or to be sure Ferdinand wouldn't drop him. 

In retrospect, this was probably why he'd never done it before. 

Edelgard laughed from beside them, a most rare and lovely sound. Ferdinand let Hubert drop down from his arms and was satisfied to see that he'd gotten very pink in the face indeed. 

"Forgive me if I got carried away but it is so very good to see you."

"You're causing a scene," Hubert huffed but he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Ferdinand's ear, gloved fingers skimming his cheek, which meant he wasn't all that upset. 

"You have done well," said Edelgard. Her expression had something wistful in it and Ferdinand had half a mind to hug her too. However, he wondered if she'd welcome such a gesture from him. And there was a danger Hubert might actually stab him for real if he laid unsolicited hands on the emperor. 

What better then, than a sweeping bow?

"Such words of praise are a precious commodity from you. I'll treasure this moment for days to come."

"I'm quite sure I will never hear the end of it."

"Neither will I," said Hubert. "We must be careful not to praise him too much or he will never simmer down."

"Do not talk about me like I am a wayward pet!" 

"Retriever or spaniel?" asked Edelgard. 

"I was thinking horse. Purebred, of course." 

They were teasing him but it didn't feel bad at all. It felt like belonging. Like family. Like nothing he'd ever had before. There was nothing he wouldn't do for them, no enemy he wouldn't face. 

"Are you crying?"

"I am happy!" 

This time Hubert was more receptive to Ferdinand clutching onto him. 

"Ferdie." A whisper in his ear so reverent that it barely sounded like Hubert at all. Maybe he was mad - or in fact dead - and this was all some crazy dream. "You can relax now. We will wait for the others and return to the monastery."

Difficult to relax when you'd spent the last four hours amidst the highs and lows of war, noting the impact of each fallen comrade and slain enemy. It weighed on him, that he had it in him to be that cold. The sacrifices of the few for the many made sense on paper, but the reality burned.

Edelgard's vision would come to pass. Yes, he would fight for that. But on a personal level, he would fight for this, for Hubert's arms around him and that whisper in his ear. 

_Let us press on and win this war. I want to know what courting feels like without worrying you or I will die. I want to be without bloodshed, without uncertainty and without fear. ___

__And no matter how long it took, Ferdinand von Aegir was very good at getting exactly what he wanted._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus concludes my half baked mix of #FerdibertWeek offerings!
> 
> Thanks to all who have kudos'd and commented. Thanks also to any other participants over the last week, I have enjoyed being part of such an active explosion of content

**Author's Note:**

> Young Ferdinand is a poor loser and deals by making a performance out of it. I hope he doesn't read as being intentionally cruel to Hubert here, even if that's Hubert's interpretation. YMMV on whether he deserved a Mire to the face for it.


End file.
